Were we unable to sin, I often wonder, would we appreciate God's mercy? Of course His mercy surrounds us: our hearts which beat without us giving thought, the rain which falls from the sky giving life to dead earth, the air which expands our breasts. But I wonder: was it not for our ability to sin and err, and return to Him in repentance, would we truly understand the blessings he bestows on us?

Nicky Gumbel--of Alpha Course fame--claimed in his book, Searching Issues, that in Islam sinners will face judgement without forgiveness, but nothing could be further from the truth. Every chapter of the Qur'an but one begins, "In the name of God, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful," while forgiveness itself is returned to repeatedly throughout its pages. In his chapter entitled What About Other Religions, however, Gumbel wrote:

Secondly, Jesus is unique in his achievement. As Peter asserts, "salvation is found in no-one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to men, by which we must be saved" (Acts 4:12). We all need a saviour because we have all sinned and we cannot save ourselves from the results of sin. None of the other great religions even claims to have a saviour. ... Muhammad is regarded as a prophet--not as a saviour. In Islam, sinners will face judgement without forgiveness.
By contrast, Jesus is the one who brings salvation. He saves us from our guilt, he saves us from the addictive power of sin and he saves us from the judgement we all deserve.

The author appears not to have considered moving beyond his own theological perspective when thinking about other faiths. Only in the context of his earlier assertion--that we all need a saviour--is his statement about Islam true, for it is indeed the case that a Muslim believes that no name under heaven has the ability to forgive the sins which will be accounted on the Day of Recompense. This does not mean, however, that there is no forgiveness for our sins. What Gumbel's position suggests is that God alone is unable to accept the repentance of one who turns to Him.

One year I spent Easter weekend staying in a rural Rectory in the north of England, my hosts busy with services for the duration of my stay: the station of the cross on Good Friday after the night vigil on Thursday and evening worship on Saturday. At dawn on Sunday my hosts led their congregations in another vigil, following it with the main service later in the morning. It was Easter weekend, marking the key events upon which their entire theology hangs: the crucifixion, the burial and the resurrection.

Christians believe that the crucifixion represents the ultimate example of God's love, the only means by which we are forgiven for our sins. Thus that weekend was a time of emotion for them, a time for reflection and giving thanks. It was a time of contemplation, and yet just then I found myself reflecting on what appeared to me to be a somewhat peculiar expression of theology. The walls of my host's study were lined with books, mostly on different aspects of Christology. It was not that they had not reflected on it; in fact they believed in it with passion, considering it an altogether coherent philosophy. They live and breathe this theology. It is everything to them.

Still, it seems peculiar to me. To my mind the ultimate example of God's compassion cannot be seen in a ransom. Instead it is that beautiful and humbling moment when we turn to Him alone, regardless of what we have done, repenting sincerely. He does not require a sacrifice or an atoning saviour. He merely asks us to turn to Him in repentance and He will forgive us. There are numerous blessings in the simplicity of this act. I will let the Christians dwell on the cross and the empty tomb of course, but I will continue to dwell on the words of the Qur'an, on the supplications we are taught to say when we err and on that famous Hadith Qudsi:

O son of Adam, so long as you call upon Me and ask of Me, I shall forgive you for what you have done, and I shall not mind. O son of Adam, were your sins to reach the clouds of the sky and were you then to ask forgiveness of Me, I would forgive you. O son of Adam, were you to come to Me with sins nearly as great as the earth and were you then to face Me, ascribing no partner to Me, I would bring you forgiveness nearly as great as it.

To me, that indicates an infinitely more generous Lord: my sins could be like mountains, but God promises forgiveness so long as I turn to Him. No cross, no tomb, no crown of thorns: just simple words from a sincere heart.

So contrary to Gumbel's belief forgiveness in fact lies at the heart of the Muslim worldview, with frequent references made to repentance throughout the Qur'an, Hadith and works of Muslim scholars. His view that, "sinners will face judgement without forgiveness" is quite wrong, unless he is speaking of those who do not repent or believe, in which case the position of Christianity is the same. In Islam, the term is "turning back"--tawbah--meaning to turn back to God, seeking refuge in His forgiveness, so that He might turn back to the person who has sinned. Indeed, the Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him, taught the following supplication to his followers:

O God, You are my Lord?there is no god but You. You created me, and I am Your servant; and I uphold Your covenant and promise to You as much as I am able. I seek refuge in You from the evil I have done. I acknowledge my sin, so forgive me. Indeed, there is none who can forgive sins except You.

In Islam there is no concept of Original Sin and a child that dies in infancy is considered pure. Although the Qur'an tells the story of Adam and Eve, we read that after Adam sinned he returned in repentance and God forgave him: "Lo! He is the relenting, the Merciful." Far from requiring a saviour or being unable to save ourselves from the results of sin, all of us are only accountable for our own deeds and intentions; Islam has a positive view of mankind, recognising that while we have the potential to sink to the depths of depravity, the ability to soar great heights is also within our grasp. The Qur'an states:

Say: Shall I seek another than God for Lord, when He is Lord of all things? Each soul earns only on its own account, nor does any laden bear another's load. Then unto your Lord is your return and He will tell you that wherein you differed.

It is the Muslim's belief that we are each personally responsible for the ultimate destination of our soul and that we have the capacity to rise above our basest desires--if we make the effort. It is not for another to save us from guilt or from the addictive power of sin, as the Parable of the Prodigal Son in the Gospel of Luke makes clear.